A Bit of Providence
by The Friendly Plebian
Summary: Set during T2. At the abandoned gas station, Sarah Connor has the verbal interaction with the Terminator that was needed all along.


_**A/N: I really don't expect anyone to really review this little work...Heck! I don't even know why I put this up on here; but I like the concept - and haven't come upon any fics that explore such yet. This is just a little..."missing scene" I guess that I would have liked to see in T2, in the part where they are all at the abandoned gas station. Just to clarify, I'm ignoring any previous references to the "future" that Sarah has been provided with, for sake of conversation. So here ya go! I do sincerely hope that you enjoy.**_

_**A Bit of Providence**_

_Sarah Connor sat in silence, arms folded over one another casually, but ready in an instant to utilize the pistol at her hip. Her feet tapped restlessly together, creating a rhythm that she was sure only reached her ears. She changed a glance behind her, looking upon the peaceful face of her son for only a quick moment, lest she find herself face to face with the cold, unwelcoming barrel of a gun. As long as the young boy slept, she would not allow herself to slip into that which she had not obtained for days on end. She had no trust for the sudden and devoted watchman, not after the torment that one like him had put her through. And so it was, that while she sat at that table, she swore to keep herself alert, and to not let her gaze stray away from the for too long._

_He just stood there, immobile, without the slightest hint that he was actually aware of anything at all. But, of course, he most certainly was_ - for all she knew he was probably watching her as well, her and her son with her. She wondered to herself what exactly went on inside the deceptively human head. Continuous calculations? Wide ranging scans of the area? Goings on concerning every face he had ever seen? How could such a monster be made to be almost...human? Or _humanoid_, rather. The stoic form was one that was not to be trifled with, a persona of death that pervaded the room with an overwhelming and easily identified sensation of malevolence. It could not be true. He could not be sincere in his efforts, the key force of her liberation or not. Even so, he had brought them this far, veritable intentions a mystery to her, in spite of what he had informed the mother and son. He was still motionless as she thought these things.

She stood, feeling the ground beneath her feet, and walked steadily over, as not to elicit a response that was less than friendly. His head turned as soon as she was within no less then two meters, and he stared with all the blankness of a dead man, utterly emotionless. This was he who could make even her lionhearted courage turn on its heels and retreat - who knew not of his effects because he was different than the other, yet confined in the same exterior shell. His grip tightened considerably on the firearm he held, displaying something, but impossible to read. How could such be done? He had no concept of the sentiments the human look-alikes around him experienced. She avoided direct eye contact, terrified inside of what she would see.

"So you're really here to protect _my_ son?" She asked both warily and abruptly.

"Yes."

No hesitation.

He turned his attention back to the window. Was that all she would get from the thing? Her mind was overflowing with questions - questions that required more than one-word answers.

"What is it like...in the future?"

This time he did not look away from the glass.

"It is hell." He replied, monotone as anticipated. "Many people die every day, and the machines have superiority."

That much she knew. Kyle had informed her of it.

"What is it like for those like you?"

"There are not many like me."

"_Like_ you or having the appearance of you?"

He was silent for only a second. "You have many questions - much like your son."

Her brow furrowed. Before then, she hadn't taken the time to contemplate that maybe he truly did have the mental capacity to make connections between immediate relatives. It was a strange phenomenon - very strange indeed. Did he also comprehend those farther down the ancestral line? Grandparents? Great grandparents? Unknown kin? All just by looking into a single person? Despite herself, she smiled a bit, out of her overwhelming fatigue no doubt.

"You find that amusing?" She heard the voice question.

Wiping the look from her face, she shook her head. "No..."

"You were smiling."

_Well you aren't certainly one to talk_...She nearly mumbled, but stated instead, "Sometimes, people just smile without any real reason involved."

"I understand."

"Do you really?"

"Yes."

The 'conversation' was getting nowhere, but she had expected such before she even opened her mouth to speak. She was weary, exceedingly so, but she could not allow herself to let her guard down. Could she? The internal struggle against her persistent beliefs about him and her own physical condition clashed unremittingly within, her resolve weakened by the quarrel. In the end, she asked a question that had been on her mind from the moment she had been brought into the light about the whole lot.

"Do you think that everything will turn out right in the end?"

He looked back at her, expression unfathomable and stonelike. "It must be, or the future will never become a reality."

The words were harsh, but true, and even as she went back to the table where she had previously sat without even a simple valediction, they haunted her. Her eyes grew heavy, her head cushioned on her arms. She gave in to the last battle against sleep, endeavoring to put a little faith into the guardian by the window.

Her last glimpse of him before the blessed darkness took over her vision was the same it had been prior to her confrontation - he was as a statue where he stood.

There he stayed until the light of morning came once more.


End file.
